


Newspaper Girl and Milk Girl

by kaminaridenki



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1940s USA, Bisexual Character, Character Study, F/F, Historical, Historical Inaccuracy, Lesbian Character, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29784447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaminaridenki/pseuds/kaminaridenki
Summary: Nancy sells milk bottles. Maggie sells newspapers. They fall in love.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 4





	Newspaper Girl and Milk Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Not intended to be historically accurate; homophobia, sexism, and racism do not exist in this alternate timeline.

Nancy huffed, pedaling her bicycle faster down the gravel path. The bottles of milk in her basket clanged around noisily. It was an irritating routine, but a familiar one nonetheless. She tightened her grip on the rubber handlebars as her jet black braids flew behind her.

_ House number 87...87, where is it? _ She repeated the number to herself, knowing she would otherwise surely forget it—something that happened to her far too often. She couldn’t afford to lose this job. She was lucky to have gotten it in the first place, her mother reminded her frequently.

It was her last delivery of the day, anyway, she would have the rest of it to do as she pleased after completing this simple task. Maybe she could stop by Mr. Willow’s candy store. His chocolate was her favorite, after all.

“A-ha!” She cried victoriously, peering at the passing mailboxes—79, 81, 83— “I’ve got to be close now!”

Unfortunately, you see, Nancy was not exactly what one would call the sharpest tool in the shed. In fact, her oblivious and airheaded nature was somewhat of a joke among her family and friends. She had a one-track mind, which often caused her problems.

Caught up in her excitement, she neglected to realize that she would actually need to slow down to stop at the house. In the end, she did not need to remind herself of this, because a collision with a hard object did the job for her.

Nancy barely registered the sound of an annoyed shout from somewhere close by. She noticed that she was now on the ground in an awkward position, with her hands still clutching the handlebars of her bicycle. Or, at least the rubber outsides. She had seemingly yanked them off of the actual bicycle itself.

_ Wow, I’m actually pretty strong, huh? Wait. Am I a superhero now? Like Superman? Holy mackerel, that would be so sweet, imagine if _ —

Rapidly approaching footsteps and an exasperated voice, “are you daft?! What were you thinking, not paying attention like that!” broke Nancy out of her own thoughts. She blinked rapidly, slowly raising her head to look at the owner of the voice.

Oh.

Standing above her with furrowed eyebrows and arms crossed over a checkered button-up shirt, was the prettiest girl Nancy had ever seen. Her hazel eyes scrutinized Nancy’s every move, and her blonde hair fell over her shoulder as she shifted, waiting for a response.

_ Say something smart! _

“I like your eyes,” Nancy said, quite dumbly, “brown is my favorite color.”

The girl’s tense expression smoothed out marginally; she sighed and uncrossed her arms. She then extended an arm to Nancy, raising an eyebrow in anticipation.

“Huh?”

“Take my hand, dork.”

“Oh!” Nancy exclaimed, “but—” she stared at the rubber pieces in her hands, before shrugging her shoulders. The motion caused one of her suspenders to slide down her shoulders and land at her waist.

The other girl rolled her eyes, taking the handlebars out of Nancy’s hands ( _ our hands brushed! hers were so soft! _ ) and setting them gently on the grass beside her. She then took a hold of Nancy’s hands with her own and pulled her to her feet quickly albeit carefully.

“Thanks…” Nancy trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck. She dusted dirt remnants off of her beige pants and white blouse, before averting her gaze to the ground, where her bicycle laid on its side in the grass, the glass bottles inside miraculously unharmed. Probably due to some physics thing. Friction, maybe. Nancy didn’t know.

“My name is Margaret, but my friends call me Maggie.” The girl— _ Margaret _ — said, assuming (correctly) that Nancy would not be the one to continue the conversation, “and you?”

“I’m Nancy! My friends call me…Nancy.” She fiddled with the fallen suspender, a dust of red crossing her cheeks.

Maggie chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, Nancy, maybe you should be more conscious of your surroundings. You almost broke both of our bicycles. And then we  _ both _ would’ve been out of a job.”

“How do you know about my job?”

“The milk bottles are a pretty good indication.”

“Right.” Somehow the blush on Nancy’s face only intensified. “And what exactly is your job?”

Maggie gestured to the right, shoving her hands into her pockets and leaning back. Nancy glanced in the direction she had pointed. There stood a pale blue bicycle with a white sack hanging off of it, stuffed full of gray papers. One read, in bold black letters,  _ "Gone with the Wind" actress Hattie McDaniel wins Academy Award. _

“Ah, you’re a newspaper girl.”

“And you’re a milk girl.”

Nancy grinned, “newspaper girl and milk girl, huh?”

“It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Maggie snickered.

“Yeah,” Nancy’s smile softened, “it does.”

**Author's Note:**

> . . . and they lived happily ever after.
> 
> hope you enjoyed this cute little oneshot! i really enjoy maggie and nancy as characters, so i might be writing more of them in the future.


End file.
